


give a little love to a child

by VeryImportantDemon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, By modern I mean like 2000s, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor and RK900 are siblings, Connor is homeless, Connor is so sweet he’s such a good boy, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson and Connor are Family, Protective Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImportantDemon/pseuds/VeryImportantDemon
Summary: “Jesus Christ,” Hank said. He tipped his almost empty coffee cup back, swallowing the rest of it before tossing it in the first garbage bin he passed. He could already tell that it was going to be a long day. He needed more coffee. He rounded the corner, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Heaving a sigh, he looked up at his desk.There was a kid sitting next to his desk. “You must be Lieutenant Anderson,” he said.Hank sighed, dropping into his desk chair and shaking the mouse to boot up his computer. “The one and only,” he said. “Now who the hell are you?”“My name is Connor,” the kid said. “I was arrested and now I am here.”Or: the three places and times Hank and Connor met.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 126





	give a little love to a child

The watch on Hank’s wrist and the clock on the wall of the police station both said 12:19 when he walked in the door. He looked just as unkempt as he always did, with tangled hair damp from the rain and tired wrinkles, an outfit that looked thrown together at the last minute, and a coffee cup clutched in one hand. He didn’t have a headache this time, which was rare, but then didn’t mean he wanted to be thrust into a case as soon as he walked through the door which is exactly what happened.

“There’s a kid at your desk,” an officer said, striding past him with a stack of papers in his hand. “You have to process him.”

“I’m not the arresting officer, I can’t-” Hank was cut off by the officer interrupting him. 

“Don’t care!” he said. “You’re late, you have to deal with him. I need to change.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hank said. He tipped his almost empty coffee cup back, swallowing the rest of it before tossing it in the first garbage bin he passed. He could already tell that it was going to be a long day. He needed more coffee. But evidently he had to deal with this kid first. He rounded the corner, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Heaving a sigh, he looked up at his desk. 

There was a kid sitting next to his desk, facing the entrance Hank was coming from. He was wearing a bulky coat and dark jeans. There was a blue beanie pulled over his head. The rain on his coat was catching the fluorescent lights. He must’ve been cold be he looked almost mechanical, sitting perfectly straight on the edge of the chair. He was flicking what looked like a quarter between his fingers without looking but he didn’t miss a beat and he never dropped the quarter. He looked like he might be in his early twenties. “You must be Lieutenant Anderson,” he said, stopping the coin when it hit his palm by curling his fingers around it. 

Hank opened his mouth as he crossed to his desk, about to ask how the hell the kid knew who he was when he glanced down and saw his name badge on the desk. He sighed, dropping into his desk chair and shaking the mouse to boot up his computer. “The one and only,” he said. “Now who the hell are you?” 

“My name is Connor,” he said. “I was arrested and now I am here.” 

Hank snorted slightly, slowly typing in his computer’s login information. Appearances could be deceiving but Connor didn’t look like the type of person to do anything illegal. He looked, well… He looked like Cole. “Care to tell me what they bagged you for, kid?” 

“Loitering with intent and resisting arrest,” he recited.

“Huh,” Hank said. He squinted at his desktop, sighing when the ancient machine still hadn’t logged on. He leaned back in his chair, waiting not-so-patiently in silence until the kid spoke again. 

“I like dogs,” Connor said. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“How the hell did you know I have a dog?” Hank asked, sitting up and leaning against his desk, 

Connor pointed at a framed picture sitting next to the computer. “You wouldn’t have a picture of a dog in a frame if it wasn’t your pet,” he said. 

“Oh,” Hank said, leaning back into his chair again. “His name’s Sumo.” He frowned slightly, noticing as Connor put his hand back in his lap that he’d been shaking slightly. 

“Sumo,” Connor repeated. “He must be a big dog.”

“He is,” Hank said, shaking the mouse again in a vain hope it would speed up the login process. It didn’t. “You ever seen a St. Bernard before?” 

“I haven’t, Lieutenant,” Connor said. He started to fidget with the quarter again, flicking it between his fingers. 

“Usually the people who come through here aren’t so chatty,” Hank commented. “Why are you?”

“I heard that small talk puts people at ease,” Connor said. “Is it working?”

“It’s doing something,” Hank said. “You cold, kid? You’re shaking.”

Connor seemed to hesitate slightly before he spoke. “I am a little cold, yes,” he said finally. “The officer who arrested me had the air conditioning while he was bringing me here.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Hank said. “Take your coat off. Keeping those wet clothes on can’t help.” 

Obediently, the kid shrugged off his bulky coat, draping it carefully over the back of his chair. He was wearing a long-sleeved, dark green shirt underneath it with sleeves that were too long and almost covered his fingertips. “Bring your chair closer to me,” he said. “Heat’s on, you’ll get more of it from under the vent.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Connor said. Instead of scooting while remaining in the chair like most people would’ve, Connor stood up, picked up the chair, moved it two feet forward, and sat back down. Hank frowned and he watched him. This kid was something else. He glanced back at the computer which had finally decided to turn on. 

“You’re something,” Hank said, shaking his head slightly. He opened a blank arrest report, his hands hovering over the keyboard. “Do you remember who your arresting officer was?” he asked. 

“Officer Barkley,” Connor said. Hank pulled a face. The dumbass who had given him the task of dealing with this arrest report in the first place.

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” he said. “He’s a piece of work.” 

Connor hummed instead of speaking out loud. “I will say that being arrested was not a pleasant experience.”

Hank typed in the name at the top of the report, tabbing down one. “Alright, Connor, what’s your last name?”

Connor frowned slightly. “Last name,” he repeated. 

“Yeah, kid,” Hank said. “You got one?” 

“I believe I am legally known as Connor Dechart,” he said, “but I haven’t used that name in years.”

“Family drama?” Hank asked as he typed. 

“Yes,” Connor said. “I don’t think that is the type of small talk that will get you to enjoy my company, though.” 

Hank shrugged again, moving down to the next area of the form. “Arrestable offense… Loitering with intent and resisting arrest…” He paused, glancing back up at the kid sitting next to him. “You confessing?” 

“No,” Connor said. “I don’t understand the charges, Lieutenant, and it wouldn’t be right to confess to something when I don’t fully understand.” 

Hank squinted slightly. “Okay, kid,” he said. “What happened on your end, then?” 

“I was walking downtown,” Connor began to recall. “It began to rain and I saw the bank. There was a balcony on the second floor above the entryway and I stood towards the edge of the overhang to try and stay dry. I wasn’t in the way of anyone getting in the bank. I made sure of it. But Officer Barkley arrived and told me that I was loitering, which was illegal, and that he was going to arrest me. I told him that I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t stay where I was but that if I’d broken a law, I would leave. As I started to leave, he grabbed my arm.” 

Connor slid his quarter into his pocket before he touched his right lower arm with his fingertips gently. “He said I was waiting outside to rob the bank. I explained to him that I was not trying to rob the bank at all and that I was just standing there to get out of the rain.” Connor tilted his head slightly. “I asked repeatedly if he would let go of my arm because he was hurting me and he held it tighter. I said I didn’t understand why he wanted to arrest me for getting out of the rain and that if he explained it to me, I would go with him. He didn’t seem to like that, because when I turned slightly as I was trying to pull away, he hit me in the back of the head with something.”

He gently touched the back of his head with the fingertips of his left hand. “When I fell onto my knees, he said that was a resisting arrest charge and I was coming with him.” He dropped his hand when he finished speaking, digging the quarter out of his pocket and beginning to flick it between and around his fingers again.

Hank frowned slightly as he typed out what Connor was telling him. He wasn’t very fond of Officer Barkley anyway, but it really seemed like he’d used excessive force to subdue someone who wasn’t doing much at all. But it definitely made sense with what he knew of Barkley. Bad cops believed no one could surprise them but Hank had a gut feeling about this kid. 

“Where do you live, kid?” he asked. 

Connor shrugged. “I don’t have an address or a phone so you won’t be able to contact me again. If you’ve decided that I committed a crime, I’ll accept my punishment.”

Hank sighed softly. “You’re a fucking weirdo,” he said. “You know that, right? Most people we get in here aren’t so eager to get arrested.”

“I’d rather not,” Connor admitted. “But I know who I am and how I look and I know what the system is like. If you’ve decided here that I’m guilty, I’m guilty.”

Hank studied his computer screen for a few more moments, his hands still on the keyboard. He had an idea. It wasn’t a great one and if Barkley or his captain found out, he’d be fucked. Maybe he was a bit bitter and grumpy, but he did have a heart. He reached for the mouse, tapping the shutdown button on the menu. He leaned around the back of the monitor, pulling a cord out. The screen instantly died just as it was sluggishly starting shutdown.

“Lieutenant,” Connor said, frowning slightly. “What are you doing?” 

“This damn computer,” Hank said, leaning back in his desk chair. “Always breaking.” He pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his leather jacket and put it on the desk before shrugging the jacket off. “Guess I have to go and find IT.” 

Hank stood up, tossing the leather jacket into Connor’s lap. The kid flinched slightly, instantly moving to grab it and prevent it from falling. “Lieutenant-”

“No one know you’re here except me and Barkley, kid,” Hank said, “and now the arrest report’s gone. Take it and go.” 

Still looking a little confused, Connor stood up, holding the brown leather jacket in his hands. “Why are you being kind to me, Lieutenant?” he asked. 

Hank shrugged. “You remind me of someone I used to know, Connor,” he said. “Besides, I know what Barkley’s like and it seems pretty clear to me what happened. You better not be here when I get back.” Hank stuck his right hand in the back pocket of his jeans, turning away from the kid standing beside his desk and starting out of the bullpen.

When he returned with an IT employee’s promise they’d be by in a minute, Connor was gone, leaving nothing behind but a sodden old coat draped over a chair. He hoped that after he’d left the police station, Connor had stuck his hands in the pockets of the leather jacket and found a ten dollar bill. 


End file.
